


Just a Little Help

by Sparcina



Series: Gotham at Night [9]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Amateur medical help, Anal Fingering, Anal Probing, Ass Play, Awkward Sexual Situations, Confessions, Harvey is very willing, Jim needs help, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 13:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21162395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparcina/pseuds/Sparcina
Summary: “So, I sort of maybe could use your help?”Harvey liked to think that few things still surprised him these days. What was happening right now, well… He couldn’t have predicted that in a million years.“So you lost a toy in there,” he said as matter-of-factly as possible, as if this was a thing Jim did every Thursday. “And you want me to-”“Trust me, I wouldn’t ask you if there was any other way-”Jim sounded pained, and part of Harvey wanted to hug the hell out of him.Another part was just fucking satisfied thathewas the only way.





	Just a Little Help

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheFierceBeast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFierceBeast/gifts).

> A little gift for [TheFierceBeast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFierceBeast/pseuds/TheFierceBeast/works?fandom_id=2818614), who wrote some of the hottest stuff I’ve ever had the pleasure to read. I was sitting all innocently in front of my computer, ready for a new day of work, when this thing basically took over my body and wrote itself :P

“So, I sort of maybe could use your help?”

Harvey’s attention, which until that moment had been firmly captured by the case file lying beside his empty mug, veered at light speed toward his partner at the word ‘help’. Or rather, he’d stopped reading about the dead lawyer at the sound of Jim’s voice, but he liked to think he wasn’t that gone.

Everyone had their little addictions. His was denial.

(And Jim.)

“What’s wrong?”

He’d meant to come up with a witty reply, something that would get a rise out of Jim (he’d get what he could, okay), but Jim’s whole expression screamed unease in big block letters. His eyes were a little wide, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, his whole posture a lot stiffer than usual…

… and his cheeks were dusted the most delicious pink.

A lot of Harvey’s fantasies involved Jim in such a state. However, he was pretty sure this wasn’t one of the cool dreams he’d had of late. He was there, after all. He’d _known_ if he was the reason Jim was worked up like that.

“Hey, partner, you still with me?”

He may be dreaming awake, but Jim was downright _lost_; his eyes were darting this and that way, unable to focus, or so it seemed. Harvey shook his head.

“Come on, Jim, I can’t help you if you don’t-”

“Just come with me, okay?”

If Harvey was surprised to feel Jim’s fingers close on his wrist and tug, he didn’t show it. He let Jim lead him towards wherever-it-may-be. That was what his life looked like as of late: him, following Jim around the city like he had no better places to be. Well, he didn’t. Not during working hours, and not out of them either. Still, it wasn’t like they got up to very exciting ventures beyond hunting down a few preps (and getting shot in the process) or wondering about the sense of life over a few beers.

Harvey would be only too willing to take things a lot farther, to not only protect Jim’s body, but to pleasure it. To cherish it, worship him, _service _Jim. He’d had years to stack up fantasies involving his good ol’ self, Jim Bloody Inaccessible Gordon and a variety of pieces of furniture and instruments of enjoyable torture. He’d give his right arm for a taste of those pouty lips.

Or for a moment spent between those strong thighs he’d had the pleasure of bandage all by himself, once.

But Jim didn’t belong to him. Jim was his friend, and Harvey may be an idiot in many aspects of his life (he was self-aware enough to accept the truth, thank you fucking much), but he wasn’t going to blow up the one good thing that kept happening to him, namely: Jim’s returning presence into his life. Harvey just had to look at him, at the certainty in those baby blue, the determination etched on those features he wanted to draw anew with his fingers, his mouth, and _God_… Jim truly was the sun shining on Gotham.

So, following Jim to the lockers felt entirely too natural. He was curious to hell as to the why, but Jim appeared so very _spooked_ that Harvey was a little afraid that the wrong thing would cause his partner to run away from him. And now that Jim had come _to _him for help, Harvey had zero intention to let him go before he’d provided that help, no matter what shape it took.

*

Harvey liked to think that few things still surprised him these days. He told himself that Jim was the only predictable piece in Gotham’s mad puzzle, and that this predictability smoothed the sharp edges of his very unpredictable life. He’d enjoy very much a shot at Jim’s predictable _private _life. Wanted nothing more than to leave the precinct with him at the end of a long day, grab some take-out on the way, and eat him out in their bed (before or after supper, he wasn’t picky on the order).

What was happening right now, well… He couldn’t have predicted _that _in a million years.

Not that he minded, not exactly. His heart ached a little for the other man.

His cock wasn’t so torn up over the matter.

“You… see?”

“I do,” Harvey choked, and cleared his throat, trying to think. He’d been able to do that, at some point, he was pretty sure of it.

Jim had locked the door (good thinking there, partner), and before Harvey could line more than two words, pulled down his pants alongside his underwear, braced himself on the closest bench and parted his asscheeks like he was begging Harvey to just shove it in and take him already.

(Stop confusing your actual life with your fantasy, Harv’, it’s getting ridiculous).

If Harvey could feel the lust pooling in his belly, he sure as hell could feel all those waves of embarrassment coming off his partner. So he muzzled the little voice that hinted at all the very nice (egoistic) ways he could get his rocks off right this moment and carefully approached the, well, maddeningly arousing sight of Jim bent over with his gorgeous ass on display. To just take two handfuls of those firm buttocks and _squeeze_-

“So you lost a toy in there,” he said as matter-of-factly as possible, as if _this _was a thing Jim did every Thursday. “And you want me to-”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t ask you if there was any other way-”

Jim sounded pained, and part of Harvey wanted to hug the hell out of him.

Another part was just fucking satisfied that _he _was the only way.

“It’s going to be fine,” he said, and tried not to wince at how _greedy_ that came off. “I’ll just… You’ll feel better in a moment.”

He wasn’t sure _he _wasn’t going to spontaneously cream his pants in the next few seconds, but hey, life as a detective was full of surprise in Gotham City.

“Thank- Thank you for not laughing. About- You know.”

Harvey had never been so unamused in all his life.

He was too turned on to feel anything else. Now that it was obvious that Jim wasn’t in pain (only his ego was). Planting one foot on the bench and aiming his penlight where it was needed, he was gifted with the mouth-watering sight of Jim’s fluttering pink asshole, still shiny with lube (with saliva, in Harvey’s fantasy). Jim was obviously making an effort to relax his muscles, but even he must know that without touch, there wouldn’t be much happening in the way of help.

“I’ll just… wash my hands very quickly, okay?”

Harvey had never been so efficient at the whole hand-washing business before. But he was a man on a mission, and God be blessed, Jim needed his clever fingers up his asshole right about now.

If he’d known that was how this day would go, he wouldn’t have bothered getting plastered last night.

“Might be a bit cold.” He hoped he didn’t sound _too _eager, but the few brain cells he had left were put to good use, namely making sure that he didn’t hurt Jim. “Relax f- It’s just me.”

_Relax for me_.

Jim’s smooth asshole fluttered against the pad of his finger. Harvey’s breath caught as the digit sank in to the first knuckle without a hitch. The warmth, the tightness… God, this wasn’t about him.

“Can you- feel anything?”

Desperation laced the words. Harvey shook his head, only to realize that Jim couldn’t see him. “Not yet,” he rasped.

He could do this. He _would _do this.

He pressed another finger to Jim’s rim, and waited for the other man to relax enough for that digit to sink in, too. When he sensed all that heat envelop the whole length of both fingers, Jim let out a choked moan.

Hope did its silly little routine of cartwheels across Harvey’s brain.

“You okay there, pal?”

“Yeah.”

Harvey’s cock throbbed at the roughness in Jim’s voice. Focus, he told himself. Be a good friend. So he wiggled his fingers a little, trying his very best to pretend that this wasn’t very refined torture for himself, and said something vague about touching the toy. Jim choked out some numbers about width and length, and Harvey replied in an equally unsteady voice that he had a grip on the toy. He didn’t tease Jim about losing the toy in all the velvety heat. (He wished he could lose himself in there. Stuff Jim full of him, until there was cum leaking out of him and Harvey had to push it back with his tongue.)

He just pulled, incredibly gently, careful inch by careful inch. When the shiny red dildo came out at last, the widest part stretching Jim’s rosy rim almost indecently, a punched-out moan filled the silence.

Harvey swallowed back his own grunt and tasted blood.

“All good,” he choked. And he could only blame the low amount of blood in his brain for what came out of his mouth next: “Although, perhaps I should, y’ know, _check_, in case there’s any tear? Wouldn’t want damage in such a sensitive area.”

Jim nodded. At least, Harvey thought he did, because he still couldn’t see his face. He really might have agreed, though, considering that when Harvey knelt behind him and rubbed his thumb against the rim, Jim didn’t peep a word of protest.

The first finger glided in all the way so _naturally_. Harvey used it to caress the hot walls inside, actually searching for a tear, while he directed the beam of his penlight as best he could. He was no medical doctor by any mean, but Jim trusted him.

He didn’t trust himself so easily, but then an improvised doctor didn’t spill his guts to a patient, now, did they?

“Feels fine,” he let out in a throaty voice, adding a second digit, probing around with all the care in the world. God, Jim’s ass fucking welcomed his fingers. (What about his mouth? What about his dick?) “Yep. More than fine, actually.”

Fucking no brain-to-mouth filter, he thought, a little angry at himself. This unwelcome train of thoughts promptly derailed when a wanton moan tumbled from Jim’s lips.

When Jim’s ass spasmed all around his fingers.

Oh. _Oh_. Harvey curled his fingers again in the most daring gesture of his life, and hit Jim’s prostate on purpose, this time.

Jim let go of his buttocks and buried his face in his hands with a grunt. “Harvey- what-”

To hell with everything?

To hell with all of it.

“This is called a prostate massage,” Harvey heard himself say as he brushed over that sensitive bundle of nerves again, again, and again. Fuck, he was so thankful for all the practice he’d got, even for the lousy lays he’d wasted money on. He _knew _he had fucking magic fingers. “You’ve been so stressed lately, and with a toy stuck in your ass-”

“Har-vey!”

Harvey could get used very easily to the scandalized way Jim said his name. Especially when Jim’s hips were rocking of their own volitions (he assumed), seeking out more pressure, more pleasure. Pleasure Harvey was more than happy to give him.

“Is it too much? Want me to stop?” he prompted, half out of his mind with the powerful _need _to see this through, but he cared. So. Fucking. Much. “Should I stop fingering you, Jim?”

“Fuck.”

“Is that a request?”

Here, humor: a wonderful lubricant in awkward social situations.

“N-Not yet. Just don’t- don’t stop.”

“Your wish is my command,” Harvey purred with newfound confidence, mind ablaze with all the possibilities this ‘not _yet_’ implied.

He let go of the penlight. As much as he wanted to drink in the sight of Jim’s asshole clenching around his fingers, he just wanted to have both hands on Jim _more_. So he got to business and started rubbing the taut muscles, then the fine line of skin of the perineum, massaging Jim’s prostate from two points at once. Jim keened at the double stimulation, hips snapping back and forth as Harvey gave him what he needed and took what he himself, too, needed.

“Harvey, I-”

“I know,” he crooned, risking an open-mouthed kiss on Jim’s left buttock, so pale, completely unmarred (perhaps he could redden it a little, some day). “You’re close.” He trailed a finger towards Jim’s balls, played with the sensitive sack between two fingertips, relishing the way Jim arched his back further. God, he wanted to fucking _ruin _him. Have his mouth everywhere, apply his seal all over that body until Jim knew no other, wanted no one else’s. “You can come like that, can’t you? From my fingers fucking your little hole?”

“Harvey!”

Again with the scandalized note. Harvey was positively beaming… and very close to the edge himself.

“Come on, Jim.” He spoke the next words so close to Jim’s ass that his lips brushed against the rim. He felt Jim tense with a gasp and chuckled. “That’s it, just let go for me.”

He sealed his mouth over what he could reach of Jim’s hole, two fingers still deep within him, and grunted in rapture as Jim emptied himself over the bench with a choked-out version of his name.

“Fuck.”

He snatched his hand away from Jim’s perineum and made quick work of his belt. As soon as he wrapped his hand around his cock and pulled, semen shot from the slit in thick ribbons of cum. Brow resting against Jim’s lover back, Harvey wondered if he’d just died. What a way to go…

“Harvey.”

An entire ice age seemed to go by before his name was uttered again.

“Harvey.”

Jim was now sitting on the bench, his pants pooled around his ankles, a wonderfully sated look about him. He was _very _flushed, but not all of it was from embarrassment.

Harvey shook his head. Glanced down at his hand still attached to his spent cock. Considered the way life had seen fit to turn his world on its ear.

“Jim, I-”

“I’m sorry.”

Harvey felt his eyes widen crazily. “Whatever _for_, damn it?”

Jim rubbed at the back of his neck with a sheepish look. “I- I feel like I’ve- Look, I _noticed, _okay? The way you look at me. And I don’t want you to feel like I used this, you, for-”

Would this man ever cease to amaze him?

Probably not.

“Jim.”

Harvey rearranged himself in the few seconds it took him to craft his speech.

“Did you enjoy what we’ve just done?”

“Well, it’s mostly _me_-”

“Did you freaking enjoy it or not? Reply to the goddamn question, for fuck’s sake.”

“Yes.” Jim fucking licked his lips, like he just wanted to mess with Harvey’s refractory period. “Yes, I did.”

“So you know I want you, and you want me at least to some extent.”

“I do want you, Harvey, I’m just-”

“A moron, but I already knew that.” He pressed a hand to Jim’s lips, smile all teeth. “A gorgeous, pigheaded, wonderful moron that I want to take apart whenever I can. Also, just to be clear: I really enjoy being used. In that way. By you. Feel free to get me under your desk whenever you get an itch, really. Or wake me in the middle of the night to suck you dry.”

That last statement implied a lot of things they had yet to discuss, but Jim didn’t seem baffled or afraid, or even hesitant. He reached for Harvey’s face with a trembling hand, as if _Harvey _was the miracle here.

Maybe he was, for this one man.

“How about you give this moron a proper kiss, for starters?”

**Author's Note:**

> ... now to consider: _why_ and _how_ did Jim lost that toy? :P


End file.
